


Guardians: Rise Up

by appending_fic



Series: Guardians Rise [5]
Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multi, Mystery Character(s), Non-Graphic Violence, changing minds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-09 20:39:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 16,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appending_fic/pseuds/appending_fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The children are losing belief, dreams, hope, and even joy, and the Guardians scramble to find a solution before it's too late. But this turns out to be a far more sinister plot than anything Pitch has ever dreamed up...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tired Old Dreams

Sanderson Mansnoozie was ancient. He was almost certainly older than Aster, but stars keep time differently than Pooka. They both remembered bits of the Golden Age, and the end of it.

But despite their possibly similar ages, they were very different creatures. Pooka were animals, when you got down to it. Ruled by biology and chemistry. Wishing stars were stars, ruled by pure, undiluted physics. Things like time and space seemed different to them, and life and death...were states of being.

But even stars had fears. It was for these fears that Sandy spent almost every moment he could traveling the world and bringing good dreams to children. The dream sand was not what made up wishing stars, but it had become as much a part of his being as had the hydrogen and helium. It was in part, him, and in part, his tools.

And the secret was that it wasn’t infinite, not really. When it touched the world of dreams and helped created a good dream, the dream sand multiplied. Which was good, given the amount he had to expend to soothe nightmares.

It was invigorating. He had no flesh to tire, no need for sleep, even though he often seemed distant and sleepy.

But lately...things had grown difficult. Sandy felt weary, sometimes. And the children’s dreams were strange and muted. He tried his best, but the sand seemed to be slipping through the cracks. And he was so tired.

Tonight, he was sitting on a roof somewhere near Albany. He didn’t remember settling there, but things had been getting away from him a bit, lately. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw something...a shadow across the moon.

Strange.

The thought, however, was just a passing fancy. He let the evening pass, and then passed on to the next evening.


	2. Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment of bliss, before darkness falls. Or, Aster is jealous of Jack's new friends.

Aster stumbled over a stack of books, letting out a muffled curse. That ruddy sheila had turned his Jack into a bookworm, and it had gotten where if he wasn’t careful, he could crack a shin against one of Jack’s history books or novels or something. And, worse, he had to be careful, because it wasn’t always clear which books were Jack’s, and which were library property.

Even Pitch wouldn’t dare hurt one of those books. There were stories about her, that even the children told.

Course, Jack kept his books mostly in his study. It’d been the second den Jack had used when he slept over before they’d started sharing Aster’s nest. And Aster only came in here to clean, mostly.

Which was...well, sometimes a bloke needed something to complain about, even it was just the fact that his mate was a bloody magpie.

Or maybe he was just cranky. Jack was a northern spirit, mostly, and spent most of the northern winter trying to keep things...better. He wasn’t the only winter spirit, but the only one who cared about keeping children safe. And with the discovery that he drew his strength from laughter, from children having fun, he spent more time than not playing with the kids.

And lately, there’d been one particular child, from Burgess...

A chill wind heralded Jack’s arrival, warmth against Aster’s back a sign that Jack was leaning up against Aster’s back, doing his level best to cover Aster. His arms, nevertheless, could easily wrap around Aster.

“Hey, Cottontail,” Jack said into Aster’s shoulder. “Taking a break from painting?”

“Maybe,” Aster sighed.

“You don’t take breaks this close to Easter,” Jack said, a little wistfully. “You need any help?”

“No worries, Snowflake,” Aster said. “But if you’d like to give us a few ferny eggs-”

“Shut up, Bunny,” Jack grumbled, shoving Aster forward and stepping around the Pooka, grinning. “I can paint bunnies and kittens and little diamond patterns if I want.”

“I know,” Aster replied. “Did you have a hankering for some painting, after a day out in the snow?”

Jack chuckled. “Maybe...all that playing’s fun, but it’s tiring. And can you imagine they make me feel old?”

“Three hundred years, mate.”

“You know what I mean. You, you’ve been a stodgy old rabbit forever. But I’m supposed to be a fun-loving kid!”

Aster snorted. “Stodgy? Not too told to take you, Frostbite.”

Jack smirked and dodged away from Aster, leading him back into the workroom. “Aww, but not for a couple more weeks, eh?” He picked up one of the googies and began to hastily draw something flowery on it. He looked up and winked, sending Aster’s ears back in surprise. Jack grinned. “Aw, getting a little worked up, Bunny?”

“Rack off,” Aster snapped. “I got work to do.” He grabbed the nearest googie and angrily painted a few lines on it to begin. He tried to focus on it, but he was still feeling the lingering irritation, and his brush kept slipping.

“Bunny?” When Aster didn’t answer, Jack drew a little closer and whispered in his ear the other name, the ‘E’ Aster hadn’t shared with another living thing. Aster snapped his head up. “Are you okay?” Jack asked gently. “You’ve been moody since fall.”

Aster sighed. “I don’t know, mate. It’s just, with you off playing with the ankle-biters, it’s lonely here.”

Jack swept around and leaned on Aster’s back. Aster could feel the weight and shape of the winter spirit draped on him. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Bunny. A big old spirit like you jealous of a couple of kids?”

“I’m not jealous!” Aster protested, but the words rang false; more than a dozen years together had given them both plenty of practice at reading one another. “I...maybe? It’s hard to see you spending so much time with kids so close to your own...well, looking like your age.”

Jack laughed. “Oh, Bunny. They ask about you, you know. They’ve all heard Katherine’s stories.” Aster winced. Katherine, who kept the Guardians strong by spreading their mythologies, had been delighted by Jack’s suggestion of the story of how the Easter Bunny had fallen in love with winter.

The story was...largely accurate, in spirit if not in facts, telling of how the Bogeyman had kidnapped the Easter Bunny and Jack Frost had rescued him, and how the two of them had fallen in love. There were parents who decried the story as some sort of plot to promote unnatural behaviors, but like all Katherine’s stories, it rang with truth to the children, and had spread.

“There’s this one kid, Jamie, who thinks we should get married. Says I need to make an honest rabbit out of you.” Aster’s chest hitched at the spirit’s casual tone.

“And...what do you think about it?” By spirit standards, their eighteen-month courtship was something of a whirlwind romance; nineteen years from first kiss to marriage would be something of a scandal. Didn’t mean the thought of it didn’t make him want to swoon, a little.

Jack shook his head against Aster’s back. “Not yet.”

“Yet?” Aster asked.

“I’ve got plans,” Jack muttered. “Plans within plans.”

“I’m beginning to think all the times you spend with those ankle-biters isn’t good for you.”

“Aww, you’d love ‘em, Cottontail. I can take you by to meet them after Easter’s done. Jamie’s little sister’s adorable, and...she likes you best.”

And damnation, that was Aster’s one weakness, the children who liked Aster better than they did Nick. He smiled, and, staring down at the egg, could already see how he could fix it.

“Yeah, I’d like that, Snowflake. After Easter.”


	3. Losing Your Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack doesn't tell the children about the dangers in the world, so Jamie looks to another source for answers.

“Gray and drab and nothing much to see, they’ll come in three and three and three.”

Jamie scowled as he stepped into the library, recovering only when the door shut out the nursery rhyme. He normally liked nursery rhymes and fairy tales, but something about “Gray Man” had always given him the creeps.

Putting that aside, he was here for research. The lady who’d written all those books about wizards had actually written a novel about the Easter Bunny and Jack Frost, and Jamie needed to read it again. Jack was very tight-lipped about his courtship with the Easter Bunny, which meant any source of information was worth exploring.

Plus, there was the other thing. The Librarian.

Kids talked about her. Not just in Burgess, but everywhere. There weren’t any stories about her escapades, but just flat statements. She could find any book, even one that wasn’t in the library (even ones that hadn’t been written). She could answer any question (but got very sharp if you tried asking lippy questions). She wasn’t afraid of anything.

Things were afraid of her.

Jamie had tried to find her, sometimes by looking for books that were checked out and sometimes for ones that hadn’t been written. But she proved elusive, more than Santa or the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy.

But a few days ago, Jack had let slip that he’d met her before (and that the Easter Bunny was terrified of her), renewing Jamie’s enthusiasm.

He crept carefully around the Young Adults’ section, pausing at the New Arrivals to pick up his selection, and then began prowling the library. He’d made three circuits of the Science section before someone cleared their throat behind him.

“Aha!” It was not the mysterious librarian.

Firmly expelled from the library (in part for past transgressions that were not his fault), Jamie, now without amusement, considered trying to rustle up some fun. But the snow was melting, slowly, and Jack was probably back home, and Cupcake had gotten everyone else obsessed with some sort of show about horses, which was, obviously, much less interesting than the actual lives of real magical creatures.

Jamie wandered back home, instead, feeling a little dejected he hadn’t even gotten his book. Of course, he had homework to do, which might give him time to play with his friends later.

This turned out to be more boring than anything. Jamie brushed off Sophie’s pestering while he was working; when he was done, she’d already gone to bed, slumped over her mattress until she would inevitably fall out. He pushed her a little closer to the center, pulled the blanket over her, and resolved to make more time with her the next day. She loved it when he let her tag along, told stories he got from Jack.

That night, his dreams were...strange. Normally he imagined such things about the magical people he’d read about. Lately, since he first met Jack Frost, he’d grown to imagine the adventures he and his friends must have gone on. Jack was...evasive about certain details, like what made him and the Easter Bunny different from, say, the Groundhog, just saying they had more adventures.

But his dreams were...strange. Dull repetitions of days where time crawled by. Doing chores, or handling basic tasks, such that when he woke up, it was hard to remember whether he’d remembered those days or just dreamed about them.

Something about the strange dreams made the next day seem less brilliant, less full of possibilities. Jamie drifted through the day, letting events simply wash over him. Cupcake and the others wanted to spend the day inside watching their dumb, fantastical show, so Jamie didn’t even have to invent an explanation to avoid them. He spent the evening doing his homework; Sophie made a concerted effort to distract him, but he brushed her off. She was asleep before he finished.

A week passed, strangely, like this. One day, it was unusually blustery; Jamie hurried between home and school to lessen his exposure, but the wind kept blowing his papers out of his grip. He wasted an hour tracking his papers down before he returned home to do his homework. He was almost late to bed, but he needed to get the work done.

He was aware, vaguely, of something he’d wanted to do. Something about...the library? But not related to homework?

That was ridiculous.

What was the point of something like that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just so excited whenever y'all post comments or kudos, because I'm glad you're enjoying it.
> 
> So, notes. I presume, what with Jack gaining belief earlier, the kids of Burgess grow a little closer a little earlier. And yes, Jamie doesn't quite get boundaries, yet.


	4. Letters to Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The children turn to the only people who can help.

Dear Jack,

I’m worried about Jamie. I know he doesn’t like watching my shows, but it’s always been because he had something more exciting to do. But lately he’s been acting like a robot. He goes to school and does his work - his teachers are impressed by his focus. But he’s not there, Jack. Please, Jack, help him remember how to have fun again.

Cupcake

 

Dear Jack,

Jamie hasn’t asked us to have a snowball fight with him in ages. I think something’s wrong.

Monty

 

Jack,

We’re not really sure you exist, sometime, or if Jamie’s just really crazy. But he’s gone crazy in a bad way, lately. He doesn’t even smile anymore. I think you need to help.

Claude, Caleb

 

Dear Jack,

Something happened to Jamie. I don’t know what, exactly. He was going to read up about you again (I think he wants to snoop on you and Bunny, even though he’s still grossed out by kissing). He stopped talking to us, though. He’ll talk to us, if we talk to him. But he just walks around, like a zombie. He’d say there was a magic reason for it, a powder or a spell or a zombie-making monster. I don’t know all of the stuff, except that I know something’s wrong.

Please, help him.

Pippa

 

Bunny,

Please make my brother love me again

Sophie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short, yeah. Probably going to get to the next part this evening. Also, I'm just really thrilled with everyone who's enjoying this. Hope it keeps entertaining you! <3


	5. Council of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guardians, assemble!

“And look! Hundreds of letters! ‘Dear Santa; my brother’s doing just what my mother wants, but he’s so creepy about it! I don’t care if he’s a little naughty, as long as I get my brother back!’ ‘Dear Santa; my friend doesn’t want to play with me anymore. When I ask him why, he just looks confused and goes off to do homework.’”

Jack and Bunny had already been on their way to the Pole when they’d seen the Aurora. Jack had received a stack of letters, but the few ones from Burgess had caught his attention first, speaking of one of Jack’s favorite humans walking the world as if he’d lost his...Jamieness. It had confirmed the strange feeling Jack had gotten when he’d last visited Jamie, and the child had ignored him, walked through him like he wasn’t there. Bunny’d received a letter, too, but it had been short, and he’d crushed it in his paw before shooting Jack a stern look and bounding off. Jack followed, at the very least because he still worried when Bunny went hunting monsters on his own.

And it seemed North’d got the same letters. Tooth got fewer of these sorts of requests, but the sheer number sent to Santa and Jack were worrying.

“Is this something we can do anything about?” Tooth asked. She glanced between Jack and North with a faint look of confusion on her face. “I mean, we can’t do a lot if kids are just changing, right?”

Jack nodded; he could see Bunny’s hesitant nod, as well. North, though, looked troubled. “No. Maybe not something we’re familiar with, but this is too widespread to be natural. Sandy?” he asked.

Sandy just shrugged helplessly from his seat on one of the big armchairs. It was strange; he looked so small, sitting down. Jack was used to the spirit of dreams looking larger than life, surrounded by his dream sand and hovering high enough to look at the rest of the world face-to-face.

North’s face twisted oddly and he approached Sandy, crouching down to his level. “Sandy, are you alright?”

Sandy raised both palms and wavered them up and down in a “so-so” gesture. After a moment, he hesitantly summoned the image of a child sleeping with an empty thought bubble over its head. Nick looked puzzled.

But Jack spent more time around children, who had books of puzzles and games they sometimes trotted out. And he’d gotten very good at reading Sandy. “The kids aren’t dreaming?”

Sandy nodded sadly. Jack looked around, realizing for the the first time that the omnipresent sand that always surrounded Sandy was...absent. “It’s weakening you,” he said slowly. Another nod. “Killing you?”

Sandy shrugged, and Jack could see the worry on the others’ faces. Sandy was a star by birth, but a spirit by choice. Who could say how you could kill a creature like that? It didn’t seem like a knife in the heart would do that. Even a lack of belief might not do it.

“Death!” Jack shouted, causing everyone to shoot him a sharp glance. “No, I mean...who’d know about this? Death! You said there’s a way to summon her, right, North?”

“Ah...” North flushed a little. “Well, yes. But it’s tricky magic, and it’s not a good idea to summon her for trifles, Jack.”

Jack felt a spark of annoyance. “Jamie Bennet’s probably got more faith in us than every other human alive. And he’s just...shut off. He doesn’t spend time with his friends. He doesn’t play-”

“He doesn’t love his sister anymore,” Bunny said, his voice flat.

Jack’s heart skipped a beat. He looked back as Bunny, finding that the Pooka wouldn’t meet his gaze. He stepped close, brushing a hand across Bunny’s elbow. Bunny didn’t look back. Jack’s chest tightened. Sophie was a sweet kid; she loved Jamie, and Jack, always pestering him about his Bunny. And Jamie loved her, in the aggravated way of elder siblings everywhere.

“Bunny.”

“He doesn’t love her anymore!” Bunny howled. “You can’t tell me that’s a trifle!” North and Tooth winced in the face of his wrath. Jack reached out, hoping to calm Bunny, but he shrugged him off. Bunny turned on North, glowering. “When she called us out, it was a fair go, mate. You’re gonna face her some day. Why not today?”

North seemed to deflate. “You are right, old friend. Am letting old shame outweigh my belly. Yes. Death can answer the question.”

What followed was...the oddest magic Jack had ever seen. He’d expected dribbly candles, weird runes, and chanting. But this was...precise. Almost scientific. North explained that, “those things are for wizards.”

In the end, though, there was a circle. Slowly, as if seeing a ship emerge from fog, a woman appeared within the circle.

Well, something shaped like a woman. Her face was indistinct, her hair dark, and a wraith-like cloak trailed around her. She looked around the Guardians in a slow circle. She smiled when she saw Jack.

“I see you have taken to life,” she said softly. “And you, Aster. I never told you, but you impressed me. Men have stolen and tricked souls from the afterlife, but no one has ever given the soul a choice.”

Bunny was shaking; Jack could see it, and couldn’t help hugging Bunny’s arm close to him. “I...couldn’t. No one deserves to be taken from that. Not unless they were-mmf!”

Unable to take the misery in Bunny’s voice, Jack decided to fix it the quickest way he knew how, tugging Bunny down into a kiss. It was still awkward, because of Bunny’s mouth, but the Pooka grabbed Jack’s arms, holding them together for a long moment.

Until a polite cough drew them apart (but not far). Jack thought he could see a smile on Death’s face. “I do have a schedule to keep,” Death said. “And I believe you have a question for me.”

“Yes!” North declared, straightening, although he shot a glance at Jack and Bunny. “All over the world, children are becoming like robots - no laughter, no playing, no belief. What is happening?”

Death looked down, hair shading her face from sight. “Something ancient and malevolent. It will steal their dreams away to destroy you.”

“But what is it?” North demanded.

Death shook her head. “Nothing any of you have seen or fought in your lifetimes.”

“But-” Jack, who had read a few too many stories, elbowed Bunny in the ribs rather than let him continue.

“What can we do?” Jack asked.

Death looked up and fixed her gaze on Jack. For a moment, he could see her face, unclouded by any shade, and could see something in those blue eyes. More than her words, it was her expression that he later remembered.

There was fury there. Hatred and fury and something he didn’t think it was possible for the kind, compassionate Death to feel for any living thing.

“Just look at what’s there!” Death snapped. The circle melted away like ink in a rainstorm, and Death vanished between one blink and the next.

“Hey, what was that for, Frostbite?” Bunny demanded, shoving Jack sideways.

Jack looked up at Bunny and tried to put an apology in that look. It must have worked, because Bunny looked just a little mollified. “Three questions, Bunny. It’s always three. And I needed something to help us fix this.”

“But we still do not know what is responsible for this,” North grumbled.

“Pitch,” Tooth replied. “It’s always Pitch. It’s never not Pitch.” She rolled her eyes and began fluttering in a circle. “But strange. It doesn’t seem like his style.”

“Hm. May be right,” North mused. “He takes hostages, makes threats. This is...subtle.”

“It’s smart,” Jack said. “He’s waiting for us to be weak.”

“Weak, I’ll show him weak,” Bunny growled. “We can work double-time keeping belief alive-”

“It’s not belief,” Jack said. “It’s their...imaginations. They don’t seem to care about fun and presents and money under the pillow. I’m sorry, Bunny, but you could make the best eggs ever and I don’t think these kids would look for them.”

Bunny’s ears drooped; he opened his mouth as if to argue, but paused, eyes fixed in the distance. When it lasted more than a few moments, Jack nudged him. “Bunny?” Bunny didn’t move. “Aster?” Jack asked, a note of panic creeping into his voice. “Are you okay?”

“Their imaginations are gone,” Bunny whispered. “Their dreams. They’ve been stolen. Thieved. Pirated.”

“Oh, ho!” North crowed. “Bunny, you might just be right about that!”

“What-” Jack glanced between Bunny and North, the latter already diving toward his desk and his magic swords. Bunny was grinning, a feral, fierce grin Jack only saw in battle. “Bunny?”

“When Pitch was Pitchner, he guarded the prison holding the Fearlings. But they weren’t the only things in there. The two great threats before the Golden Age were the Fearlings, and the Dream Pirates.”

“Pirates?” Jack asked. “Like real pirates?”

“Don’t get excited, Frostbite. They’re nasty and fierce. I think...” He glanced questioningly at North, who nodded.

“Think we should see Ombric,” North said. “I only know stories.”

“Yeah, that’ll do,” Bunny said. “Everyone ready?”

Tooth nodded, Jack grinned at Bunny, and Sandy stood on the chair. Jack realized with a start Sandy was smaller than usual, but the ferocity in his face was no less fearsome for it. He’d found the source of the problem, Jack realized, and he was ready to kick some serious ass.


	6. The Bastion of Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Guardians go to Santoff Claussen, and Jack gets some answers from Katherine.

Jack never felt comfortable in Santoff Claussen; it felt so separate from the real world, sheltered and distant, that he didn’t know how to act. The children were impossibly precocious, the adults themselves oddly sheltered from the real cares of the world. He wondered if he’d get used to it, or continue feeling out-of-place there.

He trailed close behind Bunny, who must have sensed his discomfort, as he kept pace with Jack, waving off any children who tried to approach them, as they walked to Ombric’s tree.

Okay. Jack might not have liked Santoff Claussen, but the tree...well, the tree was amazing. Katherine - Mother Goose - was almost as good as a librarian, and Mr. Qwerty, who held an entire library in his page-wings, was a wonder.

This wasn’t any time to be reading fairy stories, though. North stalked into the tree. “Ombric! Come immediately!”

The wizard, trailed by Katherine, appeared at North’s call. North bent down and hugged Katherine as a favored daughter, a strange appearance when she was white-haired and looked as old as him, the very picture of the kindly old woman children believed her to be.

“Now, what seems to be the problem, old friend?” Ombric asked.

“The children!” North snapped out. “All over the world, they are becoming quiet and obedient, losing belief, hope, dreams.”

“And you have come because you believe such a thing is the work of the Dream Pirates,” Ombric said, pulling thoughtfully at his beard. He continued to speak on about something, but Jack found his attention wandering. The children of Santoff Claussen had seemed untouched by whatever was affecting the other children, but something was nagging at him.

“They don’t like games, and they don’t like fun, so they’ll ruin those things for everyone.” He shivered at the sounds of children’s voices chanting outside. He glanced up and met Katherine’s eyes; she nodded, and then, glancing at North and Ombric embroiled in a deep discussion with Mr. Qwerty, stepped aside and toward the door. Jack gave Bunny a wave and followed her; Bunny stared after them for a moment, nose wrinkled as in distaste.

“You’ve heard it, too,” Katherine said once they were outside. “The kids have been singing that song everywhere.”

“What is it?” Jack asked.

Katherine shrugged. “Not one of mine. Not every fairy story and nursery rhyme is mine. It sounds...like a child’s view of an adult. Ruining fun, sucking the imagination out of things...”

“Dream Pirates?”

Katherine shook her head. She brushed a hand in an arc across the sky. “Dream Pirates soar the worlds to steal the power of people’s dreams to become...impossible things. Three-headed cats with a dozen claws. Men wearing animated suits of unbreakable armor. Swords that can cut through buildings. What happens to their victims is a...side effect. This rhyme speaks of those who destroy dreams...Jack. Don’t let this distract you. The Dream Pirates are real, and this smacks of their involvement. We’ve been doing our best to shield this place. As long as Santoff Claussen stands, there will be hope. But you will have to fight.”

“I’m always ready to fight, Katherine,” Jack replied. He nudged her with his shoulder. “I’ve heard you can get into a real fight yourself, sometimes.”

“I can’t do it anymore,” Katherine said. She leaned her head sideway, resting against Jack’s. “This endless back and forth. Every time, I try to prove there’s something human about him, and he struggles, fights back, flees, and mocks me about the ‘weakness’ he used to have. I just...try to keep the belief alive.”

Jack couldn’t do anything but reach a free arm around her to hug Katherine. “You ever think that all he needs is a little love?”

She chuckled sadly. “I wish I knew how to believe that would work. But I’ve failed so many times...”

Jack squeezed her gently. A cough, though, drew both their attentions behind them. Bunny stood there, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Ombric’s about ready to give us one of his famous infinite lectures,” Bunny said. “Thought you might want to hear, unless your sheila’s already lent you a book about it.”

Jack laughed and pushed himself to his feet, wrapping an arm easily around Bunny’s waist. “I think she’d give you a stern look if she heard you calling her my sheila,” he replied. “You coming, Katherine?”

Katherine shook her head. “I’ve got other work to do. I’ll see you later.”

“Have a nice chat?” Bunny asked.

“No. I wanted to ask her about a creepy nursery rhyme, and she...what happened with her and Pitch, Bunny?”

Bunny paused, and they stood, just outside the door to the tree, as he bent his head. “She...wants to save him, Frostbite. They stories said he was overwhelmed by Fearlings, his compassion and gentleness stolen. She thinks she can bring those back, bring him back. We...you’ve met Mother Nature, right?”

“Sort of.” Jack had long suspected that the North Wind that obeyed his command really was a splinter of Mother Nature’s personality. And if that was the case, he was quite familiar with her...or at least a part of her.

“No one’s been able to get a straight answer out of her, but she wears Pitch’s daughter’s face. No one knows if she’s really Serafina, or...uses it to reach out to him. But we think she’s got the same goal. She kept us from killing him, once, when we thought he deserved it.”

Jack tugged his Bunny a little closer. “Are you...mad about that? Pitch...”

“Death is...everything dies. That hurt’s old. I...still worry about those that didn’t die. That he turned into Fearlings. A part of me hopes killing him would bring them back. A part of me hopes he could bring them back if he won him over. But a part of me-”

“No.” Jack cut off Bunny before he could even voice the thought. He pressed his face into Bunny’s shoulder. “You can’t lose hope, Bunny. As long as there’s life, right?”

Bunny chuckled weakly. “Yeah, Jackie. Good thing I’ve got you to keep my head on, right?”

Jack grinned and tugged the Pooka forward. “Come on, let’s make battle plans.”


	7. The War of Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Guardians bring the battle to the Dream Pirates, but things are not all they seem...

The problem was that even Ombric’s descriptions about Dream Pirates didn’t offer much in the way of strategy. They sailed the world of dreams, entering individual people’s dreams to steal the good things about them. They crafted stolen dreams into armor, weapons, impossible machines, and modifications to their own bodies. Their victims, if pirated too often, lost the aspects of their dreams that had been stolen. Those with fantastic dreams might find their entire imaginations stripped bare.

They could be fought only in dreams, and the wars against them were, as a consequence, indistinct and confusing. None had been seen in eons; most believed they had perished in the escape of the Fearlings.

A moment’s thought, though, and Aster pointed out the logical explanation.

“They hunt in dreams. However they were locked up, why would they show up here?”

“But no one sees their work in forever. Sandy? Do you hunt Dream Pirates in your work?”

Sandy shook his head, weaving his fingers together in intricate patterns, and then shrugging. Too much to do, and no great incursions before this one.

“So, what? We go to sleep and try to find the pirates?” Jack asked. “That feels a little...”

“Well, we could try lucid dreaming,” Tooth offered. “Go sailing for pirates in our heads.”

“I had something like that in mind,” Ombric said. “Come.”

They followed him deeper into the tree, and into his own room, where his giant owls roosted. A circle of censers sat in the room, giving off a strange scent. Aster sneezed.

“What is that?” he demanded.

“Special herbs to lull you to sleep, and to give you control over your dreams,” Ombric replied. “The Dream Pirates are creatures of dream, and must be faced there. This will keep you in a sort of trance, where you may seek and find them.”

It made sense, but something about the setup seemed wrong to Aster. Something was niggling at his mind, but no one else seemed to think anything was odd, and it seemed silly to interrupt without a clear feeling about it.

They all sat in a circle, on thick, soft pillows. The smoke from the censers increased, slowly, and Aster resisted the urge to sneeze again. After a few moments, though, he began to feel woozy, his mind full of fuzz and fluff. He saw Tooth waver in place, and in a moment, North was snoring.

Next to Aster, Jack gave him a smile before his eyes slipped closed.

And there, in the moment between wakefulness and sleep, when some things came with perfect clarity, Aster remembered what he’d been worried about. He opened his mouth to shout at Ombric, but instead slipped off to sleep, the thought going with his consciousness.

Aster awoke in a field of asters, the only flower he’d been able to save from his world. The plants stretched as far as he could see under the pale blue sky. He drifted for a while, the familiar sight of the plants dragging him back to ancient times...

Almost. It had snuck up on Aster, how much Jack was a part of even his deepest thoughts; at some point, he realized Jack had impinged upon his memories of home. He couldn’t imagine the academy without picturing Jack there, couldn’t recall his parents’ warren without Jack popping in, as he was wont to do.

“Hey! Bunny!”

Jack’s shout startled Aster from his musings, and when he looked up, he was blessed with the sight of Jack running toward him across the plains of Aster’s first home.The others appeared behind him, Tooth fluttering erratically between the flowers, Sandy floating serenely over them, and North tramping through them without a care.

“This is beautiful,” Tooth chirped as she arrived. “Is this your planet?”

“Nah, I’ve never been somewhere that looks like this. Pretty, though, eh?”

North clapped a hand on Aster’s shoulder, grinning widely. “But no matter how pretty, we don’t have time to look at flowers. The Dream Pirates are waiting. Sandy! Can you make us a boat?”

Not as grand a one as I’d prefer. But here it is.

A boat - more like a dinghy - made of golden sand appeared in the air. But Aster, and, it seemed, the others, were more concerned with the strange thought that had come to them.

“Sandy?” Jack asked. “Was that you?”

Sandy nodded. In dreams, you can remember things that have never happened. Why shouldn’t you remember what I say, even if I never say it?

“Uhh...” Jack’s eyes glazed over a little. He glanced at Aster, who shrugged. He didn’t pretend to understand Sandy; for all he looked human, he was much further from it than Aster was.

“Are you sure this will hold us all?” Tooth asked dubiously. “I could fly-”

I will need to steer the seas of dreams. I would not want to worry about losing you, Toothiana. And it will hold as long as I will it so.

“Well! Then all is settled!” North clambered into the dinghy, followed closely by Jack. Jack, though, paused at the edge to look back at Aster.

“Coming, Bunny?”

Aster sighed. “Be right up, mate.”

Aster took a deep breath. He’d always hated ships of all type - air, sea, and space. He’d take the ground any day. But sometimes, being a Guardian meant doing things you didn’t want to. He climbed into the boat, wincing when it rocked a little.

Jack grinned at Aster, but there was something tense about his smile. Aster wondered for a moment before he remembered Jack had drowned. He doubted water had happy memories for Jack, especially in dreams.

“Buck up, mate. You think Sandy’ll let anything happen to us?” Aster asked.

True. I’m going to be trying to keep track of all of you, and the boat. You might have to handle the Dream Pirates on your own. Now hold on...

The shift was like something out of one of North’s sci-fi movies, some sort of impossible acceleration that still felt a little like standing still. The field around them blurred and resolved into a wide-open sea. Little islands dotted the waters; Aster could see shimmering bubbles surrounding some of them. The sky’s color shifted slowly, rotating between colors at random.

Near the horizon, a fleet of ships had gathered. Aster felt his stomach flip at the sight of them; a twinge of doubt that they could handle that many pirates on their own wormed its way into his head. He glanced at Jack, who had fixed his eyes on the ships with that familiar grim determination Aster saw when Jack fought monsters. A grin tugged up Aster’s mouth, and his worry dissipated. He and Jack alone were terrors, and North would be practically unstoppable even without his magic swords. And Toothiana...

She’d drawn her twin swords, and was glowering at the ships. “Take us in, Sandy,” she growled.

The dinghy skimmed across the waves of the sea of dreams, the multicolored water beneath them growing rougher as they approached the fleet. But Sandy knew these lands, and they moved with easy grace across the sea.

Something, however, seemed off. Aster glanced at the others, but none of them looked confused. He looked again at the ships, whimsical creations with fantastic figureheads, rainbow-colored sails, and...

“The sails are tied up,” Aster said suddenly.

Strange, Sandy said. Come on, let’s take a look.

He drew up to a ship, which offered no resistance, and when they clambered onto the deck, it was deserted. Sandy grabbed Toothiana and went belowdeck, and when he returned, he looked grim.

No sign of them. Or of the stolen dreams.

North, who had been pacing the perimeter of the deck, returned to the center, eyes circling his surroundings. “What is going on here?”

A bubble, not shimmering like the ones around the islands, but dark, like smoke, appeared around the ship. Everyone tensed, and the weapons not yet drawn appeared in hands. Aster glanced up, and up, and found what he was looking for at the top of the mast.

“Pitch!” he snarled, drawing the others’ attention. Pitch laughed and leapt from his perch, a cloud of something dark catching him and lowering him to the level of the deck. As he approached, Aster could see that Pitch stood on a cloud of black sand. Pitch smirked at Sandy.

“Such a versatile tool,” he said languidly. “I can see why you use it so often.”

North roared and charged without a word; barely paying attention, Pitch summoned a whip of sand which split in two as he snapped it to North. Each part wrapped around a sword, and with a flick, Pitch disarmed North, sending his blades into the wall of the cabin behind him, quivering with the impact.

“Come on, North, did you expect that to work?” Pitch asked. “But if you must, I suppose you should fight.”

“What are you playing at, Pitch?” Tooth snapped. “Where are the Dream Pirates?”

“What? You don’t think I could do this on my own?” Pitch demanded. “Or...well, almost alone.”

Their shadows abruptly rose up, forming the smoky, terrifying shapes of Fearlings. Aster’s hackles raised as he hissed in surprise. Next to him, Jack growled, and North, ever-ready, drew a pair of non-magical swords, although Aster could see him glance toward the artifacts he was likely to fight his way toward.

The fight was furious, but slowly swung in the Guardians’ favor. Every weapon they had was bathed in or forged from moonbeams or starlight, and these Fearlings had no defenses, no dark-forged steel or anything similar. There were simply so many of them.

Aster couldn’t help but feel General Pitchner would have laughed at such amateur strategy. Stories spoke of his brilliant tactics, feints that had shattered whole armies-

There was a yelp, and Jack vanished from sight.

And Aster’s realization returned in full flight.

“We have to wake up!” he shouted at Sandy.

“You won’t,” Pitch crooned, “not in this dream bubble, not if I will otherwise.”

Aster glanced at where Jack had been, and wondered how much of Pitch’s bluster was true. But then again, Jack’s magic was the antithesis of Pitch’s, laughter instead of fear.

“What’s going on?” North asked.

“Dream sand,” Aster growled, “can bridge the world of dreams and the world of waking. The Dream Pirates don’t have to stay in the dreaming, not if they’ve stolen the dream sand. This was all a trick.”

A slow clapping echoed over the boat. “Bravo, Bunny. I wondered if you would figure it out. This was indeed a trick. The pirates have taken so much, but there are dreams they have yet to find. And for that, they needed all of you out of the way.”

“All of us?” Aster asked, feeling a thread of hope in his chest. “Jack’s beaten you before, all on his own.” Something in Pitch’s face twisted at that; Aster heard a gasp from North, but then the expression was gone, and Pitch was scowling.

“No matter. I’m sure the fleet will be more than a match for him.” Pitch’s smirk was painful to watch, the assurance that Jack was in danger. Aster growled and tried, somehow, to wrench himself out of the dream.

PItch just laughed. “You won’t escape, Bunny! This is my world, now, and my magic.”

No. This is my world.

The shield around them shattered, raining clumps of dark sand down around the Guardians, fading from black to gold where they touched. And Sandy floated at the epicenter of the bubble that had once been there.

Go, he commanded. I’ll keep Pitch busy.

“I’m afraid not,” the Nightmare King chortled, vanishing from the dream.

Aster, however, was already waking. He scrambled to his feet in the tree in Santoff Claussen, finding the room untouched. Jack, however, was gone, and Aster could hear shouting outside. He sprinted out of the tree into the town proper, and was met with the unmistakable sight of the aftermath of a battle. There were few, if any casualties, but men and women were bloody and injured, being tended to by Ombric and Katherine.

Aster scanned the groups as quickly as he could, heart clenching when he didn’t see Jack. “Oi! Ombric!”

The ancient magician looked up at Aster’s shout, and as Aster approached, the man’s expression darkened. Aster felt a knot of worry in his stomach, the opposite of hope.

“Where’s Frostbite?” Aster demanded.

“Ah. Jack appeared just as the Dream Pirates did. He fought valiantly, Aster, but...”

Aster’s blood froze. “He’s not-”

“They took him, Aster. For ransom or some other purpose, I couldn’t say.”

Aster’s moment of pure, blessed relief gave way to blinding rage. “Well. Let’s hope their wills are up to date. Katherine?”

“Aster?”

“Get me some chocolate. High-grade. Belgian.”

“Aster?” Her voice wavered. “Are you-”

“Lots of it,” Aster growled. “Like I said, I hope the pirates’ wills are up to date. Because I’m going to rip them limb-from-limb.”


	8. Assault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bunny charges to the rescue. And Jack wheedles some intelligence out of Pitch.

Jack woke surrounded by straw; he could sense little space around him. A cell, he thought. His hands and legs moved freely, however, and he could sit up without any problems.

The cell was about ten feet by ten, strewn with straw and not much else, not even a cot. Outside the bars (gaps probably just narrow enough that Jack couldn’t get out but could embarrass himself) Jack could see strange, indistinct forms moving. Occasionally, he caught sight of a more solid flash of gold, and realized these must be the Dream Pirates. Looking more carefully, he could see the armor, the shields worn by the Pirates; oddly, it looked less like they’d crafted armor from sand, and more like they’d reinforced regular armor and weapons.

_Aster growled and slammed a foot into the ground, tilting his head as he listened. “No good,” he snapped, hopping forward and trying again, actually pressing his ear to the ground._

_“Aster?” North asked. “What is going-”_

_“Shh! You can find kids, I can fossick for people,” Aster muttered. “No good, though.”_

Jack blinked. He felt like he’d lost a moment. Pitch was standing outside his cell, and Jack hadn’t even seen him move. The lights outside confirmed this wasn’t Pitch’s lair. That place was dark and cold and perfect for lurking around in.

Pitch smirked at Jack. “Well, it looks like the shoe is on the other foot, this time, Frost.”

Jack snorted. “You didn’t capture me; the Pirates did.”

“And who do you think they’re working for?” Pitch demanded, spreading out his hands. “Face it, Jack, you’re mine to do with as I please. Or have you failed to notice something missing?”

Jack glanced around; his staff was missing, something he’d failed to notice in his original scan. “Well. Then just try getting in here.” He gave Pitch a wry grin as frost began creeping from Jack’s feet up the walls and bars of the cell.

Pitch stepped back, scowling at the growing ice. “And who taught you that? The big rabbit you’ve been rutting with?”

Jack’s spike of anger lost him control for a moment, and an icy stalactite (did it count if it was sideways?) erupted from one of the bars, nearly impaling Pitch.

“Don’t talk about him like that,” Jack snarled.

“Ooh, touched a nerve?” Pitch taunted.

“You keep talking like that and I might kill you,” Jack said.

Pitch laughed. “Oh, no, I don’t think you will.” He leaned close to the bars, heedless of the danger, cruel smile twisting his lips. “You’ve been asking about me, Jack. It’d upset Katherine, you know. It’d upset the Wind.”

“Your daughter,” Jack said, and Pitch lurched back, grin turning into a sharp look of...longing?

“No,” he replied, composing himself. “She is as much my daughter now as I am her father. We have both been changed, and whatever was between us is no more.” Jack knew he didn’t imagine the undertone of pain in that reply. But what could he do about it, here?

_“Oi!” Aster screamed to the sky. “I know you’re up there, watching, you mad sheila! I know you care about him - or part of you does! I can’t find him,” he muttered, letting the despair through, his voice hitching. “But you can.” He shivered at the thought he’d been reduced to asking Mother Nature for help. “Please.”_

_“Aster...” He could see Tooth reaching out, a pained look on her face._

_But before she could say more, a breath of wind brushed past Aster, carrying with it a familiar scent. He grinned._

_“Thanks heaps,” he muttered. “Let me know if you ever need a favor. Someone get me some swords!”_

_“Bunny? Why do you need so many weapons?” North asked warily._

_Katherine appeared, panting, holding a bag that carried an aroma nearly as appetizing as the familiar scent carried by the Wind. Aster grabbed it from her and held it up proudly._

_“I told you, mate. I’m going to rip them apart.”_

Jack looked around at the milling Pirates, still marveling at how...mundane they looked. Their faces were indistinct, much like Death’s, but while there was the hint that she was more real than her surroundings, the Pirates were frail, and unreal. But Katherine had said the Dream Pirates made themselves into fantastic creatures: multiple arms, animal heads, riding impossible machines...

And they had stolen enough dreams that children the world over were losing everything in them that could dream and wonder and hope and laugh...

“Where’s all the sand, PItch?” Jack asked.

“Hm?” Pitch half-turned, but he didn’t look coy. He looked a little confused.

“They’ve stolen almost all of the dream sand. Where is it? They’re rationing it, Pitch.”

“I...” There was a moment of uncertainty in PItch’s expression before he switched to disdain, sneering at Jack. “You don’t need to know that.”

“Come on, you don’t want to gloat about your plan?” Jack asked. “Tell me your grand design, before you crush me beneath your boot?”

“My plan should be obvious, Jack,” Pitch said. “Destroy the children’s dreams so they don’t believe anymore.”

“And whose idea was that?” Jack demanded.

“Why are you asking stupid questions, Jack? When has there ever been a plot that does not have my designs behind it?”

“Because it’s a stupid plan,” Jack retorted. He ignored the furious look on Pitch’s face, because Pitch couldn’t be this stupid. “If kids can’t dream anymore, they can’t be afraid of you. You’ll destroy us, but you’ll destroy yourself at the same time!”

Pitch took a step forward; Jack could see the wavering in his expression. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t know what would happen. Maybe he actually doubted if this was his idea.

Then a blast shook the building, sending Pitch to his knees and Jack down to the floor.

Jack began giggling in his position. “Oh, man. I really hope your plan didn’t hinge on your being able to keep me here.”

“What are you talking about, boy?”

Jack rolled over to look at Pitch from upside-down. He grinned. “Did you forget my boyfriend invented the internal combustion engine? He’s going to bring this place down around your ears.”

Pitch’s face twisted into a mask of rage. “To arms!” he shouted, turning back to the Dream Pirates. The room became a scene of panic as the Dream Pirates prepared for war. Jack settled back to watch, wondering idly if he should try to break out or not. On the one hand, he was...almost certain he might be able to break the bars. Maybe. On the other...

Well, Bunny could use an opportunity to be the knight in shining armor.

Suddenly, Pitch erupted from shadows next to the cell, cursing furiously. He held a hand to his mouth, which was bleeding profusely. “I’m going to roast that fucking hummingbird like a Thanksgiving turkey!” he snapped.

Well, there was a lot more lisping than that, but Jack got the gist.

“Aw, did you get beat up by a girl?” Jack asked, injecting a little sing-song into his voice.

Pitch spat, and something small and bloody clattered into the cell.

“She got in a lucky hit,” he growled back. “Anyway, I think the Dream Pirates will be able to hold them off-”

A deafening roar echoed through the room; the floor actually shook, and Pitch’s expression actually shifted to...well, not real fear. But worry. Definitely worry.

There was something familiar about that sound. Jack was certain he’d never known any creature that loud and terrifying, and yet...

The sound came again, and Jack’s heart actually skipped. “Is that...Bunny?”

“Were you not aware your little rabbit can turn into a ten-foot-tall rage beast?” Pitch asked snidely.

“He’s not that big,” Jack retorted, mostly because he knew the shocked, disgusted expression it would inspire in Pitch. But at the same time...

Well, he’d wheedled the stories out of Katherine. And he’d never seen Bunny get mad enough to pull out the big guns.

This was going to be awesome.

_Of course it had been a flying castle. An invisible flying castle, probably. Aster hadn’t had much time for reflection, once the chocolate started hitting him. Luckily, he’d gotten to the landmass surrounding the castle before the full rush came; he wasn’t certain he wouldn’t have overturned the sleigh._

_He saw a flash of shadow overhead, but wasn’t about to let Pitch distract him from his real goal. Swift kicks sent Dream Pirates soaring away from him, and every blow with one of his four swords sliced through armor, shields, weapons._

_The Dream Pirates were supposed to be fearsome, but there was something weak about these creatures. They fled at the sight of him, their armor no more than a little enchanted, their blades barely honed. Somewhere above Pitch let out a pained scream, but Aster had no time for that. He charged forward, bowling over Pirates with every step._

_And then a monstrous form rose over him. They must have combined all the sand they had to make it. Three heads, each snarling and barking in rage._

_“Get outta my way, ya figjam!” Aster roared. When the creature snarled, Aster roared again, a wordless cry of fury, and leapt into the fray._

_Three heads, six arms, it was a perfect combination. With his first rush, Aster sliced off one of the heads; it collapsed into ordinary sand the moment it was disconnected, which, well, took away the worry that this thing would regenerate itself._

_The two remaining heads snapped at him, and Aster ducked under them, trying to offer a stab upward at what had been the middle head. But the dog’s erratic movements made the stab miss. So Aster took consolation in slicing off an ear. The creature roared, making Aster pause for one fatal second. It could feel pain?_

_The dog snapped at him, nearly taking off an ear before Aster ducked out of the way. Of course, it was a dream creature, and meant to act just like a...real...one._

_Aster pulled out one of his boomerangs, kissed it for luck (and the fact he’d likely not see it again) and hurled it to the edge of the island._

_“Fetch!”_

_As the dog leapt off the edge of the island, yapping delightedly, Aster sprinted forward. Luckily, no one seemed to want to get in his way, making his entry and progress through the castle far easier than he’d expected._

A wooden door twelve feet high soared across the room with the force of the blow behind it. Pitch ducked under it, but when he stood, his eyes widened almost comically.

“Ah, Bunny,” he said smoothly, which was all he got out before two fists slammed into his stomach. Bunny was...hulking. He was ten feet tall, five feet wide and had six bulky arms. He seemed to be missing a boomerang. He didn’t look quite like Bunny, who normally had the sleek look of a runner, but there was something in the eyes, a wild ferocity that Jack had seen a hundred varieties of.

But then Bunny turned to the cell, and as ferocious as his face, fanged and extra-hairy as it was, softened. “Hey, Snowflake,” he murmured, and with a brief gesture ripped the bars out of the wall. Jack stared. That...was actually kind of hot. Not that it would be a smart idea to let that monster loose in the bedroom. Bunny was aggressive enough when Jack was stupid enough to bring watered-down fake chocolate into the Warren. Hopped up on whatever he’d taken...

A paw briefly caressed Jack’s face, Bunny smiling at the sight of him.

“Good to see you,” Bunny said. “Just give me a second.” He spun and punched Pitch, approaching from the rear, straight in the mouth. He followed the dark spirit as he went flying back, snarling, “Are you drongo, or just a slow learner? You. Don’t. Mess. With. Me. Or. My. Mate!”

Seeing Bunny punch Pitch in the mouth reminded Jack of something. He checked the corners of the cell and found the tooth Pitch had spat out earlier, pocketing it. You never knew when something like that would come in handy. Behind him, Pitch tried, ineffectively, to fight off Bunny. With a final punch and grunt, the fight seemed to be over. Jack ambled over, trying not to wince at the sight of Pitch’s face. But, well, he’d deserved it, and if he didn’t want a vicious beating from a ten-foot tall enraged Pooka, he shouldn’t have kidnapped Jack.

He supposed the others must still be wrapped up in fighting Dream Pirates, so Jack lifted Pitch by the collar of his stupid shirt and glared. “Pitch. Who’s the Gray Man?”

“Who?” There was real confusion there, a look of bewilderment. “Wait - are you talking about that little ditty? ‘No dreams, no hope, nothing left to be; when he’s done with you he’ll be coming for me?’ It’s not one of mine, Jack. I’ve no idea what it is.” Pitch smirked. “What, you think you’d hit me and demand answers and everything would fall into place?”

“Then where’s the sand, Pitch?” Jack demanded. “It’s not with the Pirates. It’s not in here.”

Pitch’s eyes went distant and his breath slowed, weakened. “It’s...where dreams go to die,” he whispered.

“Where?” Jack snapped, but the questions seemed to shock Pitch out of whatever stupor he’d been in.

“You won’t win, Jack. Even with the sand, they’ve forgotten how to dream.” Pitch began laughing, and didn’t stop until Jack slammed his head into the wall and Pitch slumped to the ground.

Somewhere off to the side, Bunny had returned to his normal shape. The fury had apparently taken a lot out of him; he seemed lethargic, blinking blearily at Jack.

Jack slipped to Bunny’s side and let him lean as he walked toward the wrecked door out of the place. He supposed it would be easy to find the way out, following the path of destruction.

“Wait,” Bunny mumbled, “You think we can leave Pitch here?”

“He’s not responsible for this,” Jack said sharply. “He’s just someone’s pawn. Come on, let’s see how the others are doing.”

The others had, apparently won. They’d rounded up most of the pirates and Sandy seemed to be lecturing them. North cheered when he saw Jack.

“Jack! I see Bunny has saved you!”

“Said’d do it,” Bunny grumbled. “Wouldn’t let m’Jackie down.” His head lolled onto Jack’s shoulder; Jack hugged him a little closer but shot North a worried look.

“Maybe you should rest up a little, Bunny. Spend a night sleeping. Jack can-”

“Can one of you take him back?” Jack asked. “I...need to check on something.”

North nodded and accepted the burden of a half-asleep Bunny. Tooth, though, fluttered close to Jack. Her wings were smudged and there were scratches on her face, but she looked mostly unhurt. “Maybe you’d like some help?”

Jack was ready to dismiss her, but caught sight of Bunny, though dazed, watching him carefully. He didn’t think Bunny could handle another berserker rage today. “Yeah. But we’re moving fast.”

Tooth fluttered her wings, making a quiet buzzing sound. “Don’t worry. I can keep up.”

“Not the way I’m going,” Jack said. “Come on.”


	9. Meet the Gray Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack needs to find answers, and looks for answers in the only place he can.

Jack iced over and kicked in the door to the tiny library in the Scottish town the floating island had hovered over. Tooth, behind him, winced. “Jack, I’m not so sure this is a good idea.”

“Fastest way to Burgess,” Jack said. “Come on.”

He led her into the shelves, pausing at the end of the first stack and turning, taking a circuitous path through the few shelves in there, until Tooth let out a frustrated groan. “Jack, what are you trying to do?”

“Just give it a moment,” Jack said, pausing. “One more turn, okay...” And then the shelves got higher, and with each turn, the books grew older, bound in leather and stranger things. Tooth, still fluttering behind him, let out a little gasp.

“Jack?”

“Don’t worry. It’s just...the library,” Jack murmured, glancing at the books, trying to get his bearings.

“Which one?” Tooth asked.

“What do you mean, which one?” Jack asked. He looked back and winked at Tooth. “Any rabbit hole can lead to Bunny, you know. And any library...can lead to any other. Aha!”

He took a left turn, and suddenly were in the familiar stacks of the Burgess library.

“Why here, Jack?” Tooth asked.

“I need answers, and I’m sure the kids have them,” Jack replied. There was no sign of the librarian here, which was a disappointment. “And Burgess is mine, Tooth. Mine.”

She fell silent at that. Jack led her from the library to Claude and Caleb’s house. It was silent and dark there, and no one seemed to answer his knock at their window. Monty was actually studying in his room, and didn’t see Jack even when he made faces at the window. Pippa, nothing. Cupcake, nothing. Her room was stripped bare of the pictures of pegasi and unicorns that had adorned it for months now.

Jack could feel his chest tightening. He wished he had North’s globe, to see where the children still believed, who still...

Sophie. If anyone could still believe, it was her. Jack sped to her house, Tooth in tow. She’d drawn a sword.

When Jack knocked at the window, Sophie appeared at it a moment later, eyes wide. She pushed it up, wide enough to admit Jack and Tooth.

“It’s...it’s...” Her gaze was fixed on Tooth. “You’re...”

Tooth seemed flushed and surprised. “Hello,” she whispered. She knelt to Sophie’s level, holding out a hand to the little girl, who launched herself at Tooth and hugged her tight. “Ooof.”

“Careful with her wings, Sophe,” Jack warned, tugging Sophie back away from Tooth. The girl went easily, although she immediately latched onto Jack’s leg.

She gazed up at Jack, green eyes wide and clear and, yes, still believing. “Are you here to fix Jamie?” she asked.

“We’re...working on it,” Jack said. Fuck. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t face this kid and tell her he had no ideas.

Except...no one would dream again if he couldn’t fix this. He knelt down, carefully prying Sophie off of his leg, holding her at arms’ length so he could look her in the eye. “Sophie. We’re trying to fix everyone, but I need your help. I’ve got a really important question, Sophie, and I need you to try your best to answer it. Sophie, what’s the Gray Man?”

Sophie shook her head mutely.

“Sophie?” Jack asked. Something about her response seemed...off. Uncharacteristic. “Sophie, it’s okay. It’s me and Tooth, you can tell us. You’re safe with us.”

“No,” Sophie whispered.

The strange feeling intensified. Jack could feel his stomach knotting in worry. “No you can’t tell us, or no it’s not safe?”

“No,” Sophie repeated.

Jack’s blood chilled as he scanned the room. There was nothing there.

No. There didn’t appear to be anything there.

‘Seeing what’s there is a woefully underdeveloped skill...’

And what had Death said? ‘Look at what’s there’.

Jack stared at the corner of the room. He remembered how Death could fade into nothingness at will, and tried to look at the corner in a different way, to see what had frightened Sophie so badly. And then he did. It was like a magic eye puzzle, or finding shapes in clouds, seeing something you hadn’t been able to a moment before.

At three of the corners of the room hung a trio of robed figures. They wore gray robes that covered their entire bodies, although...Jack couldn’t shake the feeling that there wasn’t really anything there. Nothing inside the robes.

‘Gray and drab and nothing much to see, they come in three and three and three.’

“Tooth,” Jack said slowly. “Get Sophie and run.”

“Jack?”

“Run!”

Nine hoods turned to Jack in unison, and Jack was right.

There was nothing there.


	10. As Fast As You Can

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gray Man revealed.

Even though she saw no threat, Tooth wasted no time in scooping up the little blonde girl and fluttering after Jack. She'd joined Jack on some of his hunts, and knew he was as skilled as any of them in battle...and recognizing a threat. As he soared on the wind, Tooth following, she kept almost catching sight of something in the corner of her eyes. It was wholly unremarkable, except that it was following them.

Stop this, she remembered hearing. You are acting wholly unreasonably.

The girl, Sophie, squealed in fright, and Jack swore. Tooth had only a moment to think before realizing it was like Sandy in dreams - she remembered the words, but nothing had entered her ears.

"Leave them alone!" Jack snapped.

We have done nothing to them. To act in such a way would be against the rules.

"Then why were you watching them?"

The pause between the question and the response was almost unbearable.

We watch everything. Everybody. Always.

The Gray Man, Tooth thought with a shudder. Something bound by rules you couldn't understand, that was unspeakably drab, and always knew when you did something wrong. It was the mockery of what an adult was to a child, but somehow, she was certain they were not the result of a fevered child's dreams.

She saw, suddenly, Jack's destination: the Burgess Library. It was a hopeful thought; if you could get to any library from any other one, they could get somewhere safe, like the Warren-

Jack hit the doors of the library, splintering them to admit him, Tooth and Sophie. Jack landed in the lobby, panting with exertion or adrenaline.

And as he did, nine hooded figures faded into view in a circle around them. Tooth could see no face within the cowls of those facing her, inspiring a roil of her stomach. A mockery, indeed.

There is no point in fleeing, if you so fear us. We are everywhere, documenting the spin of atoms and the passage of time.

Jack looked up at the hooded figures, and there was a triumphant grin on his face. "I wasn't running from you," he said. "I was running here."

There is nothing here of any use to you.

"Really? Haven't you ever heard the children tell stories of Miss Susan the librarian?"

There had been something chilly and formal about the words Tooth remembered the hooded creatures saying. But the next words had something hesitant, almost fearful in them.

Miss...Susan?

A fireplace poker swung through the form closest to the library, which exploded into a briefly-burning blue flame and vanishing. Another form appeared, out of range of the poker, as the other eight figures spun in mid-air to face the person standing next to where their departed comrade had been.

She had sharp blue eyes, something that had always reminded Tooth of Death, and hair black as, well, black hair, save for the single streak of white. She kept it bound up in a bun and wore a dress of plain, serviceable black. She wore a necklace of the symbol Omega, and now, seeing her cheeks reddened from exertion, three parallel scars stretched across one cheek.

You! The words, though not heard, and spoken by a voice that Tooth couldn't imagine ever holding emotion, actually seemed to have traces in fury in it.

"You are making a commotion in the library," Miss Susan said, voice chillier than even when Aster had returned that book on stained glass techniques a decade late. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

We are everywhere, one of the figures threatened. Miss Susan didn't condescend to making threats. She simply tightened her grip on the poker, the weapon every Guardian kept in their lair as a last resort, the weapon that killed monsters.

There was a moment of tension as the robed figures remained silent and Miss Susan made no move.

We will deliberate on this, one of the figures said.

A tactical retreat for a thorough congress, another added, possibly direly, although Tooth couldn't see how this could be considered a threat.

We will have much to discuss about you, in particular.

"I'm flattered you remember me," Miss Susan said archly, "considering how few of you were left after our last encounter."

Do not compare us to those foolish organic meat puppets!

Tooth knew she wasn't imagining the ire in the figure's remembered voice.

"Oh?"

We have learned much about how humans think! We know how to avoid such pitfalls in the future!

"By one of the survivors?" Susan asked idly. Tooth was impressed; she'd never seen someone so effortlessly drag someone into a rant like that.

No! I compiled the incident report! I developed the guidelines! I - oh, bugger.

With the same brief flash as the one who Miss Susan had killed, another robe burst into flames and vanished. No replacement appeared.

A retreat was agreed upon, one of the surviving robes said.

Ignoring the consensus is a dangerous deviation, another added.

We will converse elsewhere. With that, the robes faded into nothingness.

"Thanks for the assist," Jack said with a wink to Miss Susan.

Miss Susan, without missing a beat, simply slipped her poker under her belt and stalked past Jack to Tooth. She looked down at Sophie with an impassive stare.

"Any cuts? Bruises?" Sophie, eyes wide and fixed on the woman, shook her head mutely. "Well, we've gotten rid of the monsters. I think, for the moment, though, you might wish to stay with us. We're going to make sure those monsters leave and never come back."

"I'm not sure that's appropriate," Tooth replied automatically. "It's dangerous, and she could lose a-"

"You mean it?" Sophie asked with unabashed delight.

Miss Susan turned to Tooth as she answered, giving her a level stare. "I think it will be a learning experience. Every monster can be fought."

"But what are those things?" Tooth demanded. "I've never even heard of them before."

"You have," Miss Susan replied. "It's been under your nose for years. Mine, as well. I've been unforgivably stupid, I'm afraid. Gray Man? Who else would it be?"

"We can regroup at the Warren," Jack said. "We were planning to find a way to fix the problem, but if you can give us tips-"

"If there were a book on fighting these things, I would have written it," Miss Susan said, voice tinged with pride. "Come on, I'll get us to Jack's library."

As she led the way into the library proper, Sophie trailing a half-step behind her, Miss Susan began to sing quietly.

"Gray Man, Gray Man, there's nothing you can do, now that Miss Susan's coming for you..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miss Susan is, to those not in the know, [Susan Sto Helit](http://discworld.wikia.com/wiki/Susan_Sto_Helit), from Discworld. Those who do know also know what the Guardians are dealing with; luckily, Susan's going to need to explain it to the Guardians as well as you ;)


	11. Who Could Hate Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally some explanation, and the Guardians get ready to fight.

“They’re called Auditors, and their concern is seeing that atoms spin, gravity sucks, and that jackasses in police boxes don’t go bouncing about the universe making things untidy.” Miss Susan swung a gaze around Aster’s dinner table, taking in each of the Guardians. “And they have taken it into their heads that life...especially intelligent life...is untidy.”

“Well, the elfs can make the workshop messy sometimes,” North started, “but that’s no reason to raise a fuss.”

Miss Susan turned to North and gave him a grim smile. “You understand this because you are human. They do not.”

“Wait.” Tooth fluttered her hands nervously, drawing Miss Susan’s attention. “What do you mean...untidy?”

“I mean...” Susan stood, pacing slowly around the table before stopping at the room’s window, staring out of it. “Humans believe in things that aren’t real. Santa Claus. The Easter Bunny. Wonder. Hope. Love.”

A chill ran down Aster’s spine at Miss Susan’s flat declaration. She was frightening, usually, but in the way that she was competent and cool; this was a disturbing side of her he’d never seen. Jack didn’t take such a subtle approach.

He slammed his hands into the table. “I don’t care what else you’re saying, but don’t tell me I don’t love Bunny!”

“What’s love, Jack Frost? It’s something inside your head, a fantasy about how the world works. What’s the chemical composition of love? The waveform?” She turned slowly, and when she looked at Jack, he’d dropped his gaze to his feet. Aster reached out to take Jack’s hand, but Jack didn’t respond to his light squeeze.

“But belief is a strange thing, Jack. When people believe in something, when enough people believe in it with their whole hearts...not being real isn’t so much a barrier to something existing.” Her expression softened, and in it, Aster could see a reflection of what he saw in the mirror every morning - the smile of one who had love in it. He tugged Jack around to offer him a smile; Jack smiled hesitantly back.

“And that’s what the Auditors hate. We change the world by living in it, and add things that can’t be defined by their position in space and time. We’re dangerous to their worldview.”

Jack let out a sharp bark of laughter next to Aster, earning a sharp look from Miss Susan. But he just shook his head, still laughing. “If they agreed with us, they’d just have to give up.”

Miss Susan smiled. “They have. They do. They tried to be human, once, to better understand us. They were...horrible.” Her smile turned vicious. “Unable to understand the most basic human emotion. I killed a dozen with a chocolate-covered coffee bean. That’s their weakness. They can’t understand us without falling apart. They literally believe that there is no difference between a life that lasts for a moment and one that lasts a billion years. Thus, when they express individuality, they die. Instantly.”

Aster’s heart twisted. Miss Susan’s description was terrible, pitiable, and a tiny part of him wanted to find a way to make those Auditors understand what it meant to live, to lose, to love. He glanced at Jack, who gave him a knowing smile.

“So, what? Do we have to talk them to death?” Tooth demanded.

“Oh, no,” Miss Susan said, vicious smile still in place. “The children have been singing about the Gray Man for decades. They believe in the Auditors and fear them for the monsters they are.”

“Ah.” North reached for his scabbards and drew an unremarkable fireplace poker. “You mean the poker.”

“Yes,” Miss Susan said with satisfaction. Tooth dragged a pair of pokers out from a pair of secondary scabbards, grinning. “The children call the Grey Man monsters. And the poker hurts monsters.”

Jack perked up suddenly, grin stretching across his face. “We’re going to hit them?”

“Quite a lot,” Miss Susan said before raising her fingers to her mouth and whistling. A white horse trotted into Aster’s kitchen, sending the Pooka rising to his feet.

“Oi! Watch the floor!” he snapped. “What are you doing, dragging a horse in here, you mad sheila?” he shouted at Miss Susan.

She shrugged. “I’m sorry; I’m used to doing this where people wouldn’t notice.” She rose smoothly, producing her own poker. She glanced meaningfully at Aster, one eyebrow rising.

He scowled and rose, crossing to the fireplace to pick up his poker, and the spare he’d gotten when Jack had moved in. He handed it to Jack, who took it without comment. “Happy?” he demanded.

“No,” Miss Susan replied. “But I may cheer up once this is over. Now get on.”

North scrambled up and Tooth and Sandy floated over; Jack, however, gave the horse a skeptical look.

“Are you sure this’ll hold us?”

“Binky won’t drop you. And he’s carried more. Much more.”

“And what are we doing with the ankle-biter?” Aster demanded. “I don’t care how good a lesson it is, I’m not dragging her into the middle of a pitched battle.”

Miss Susan glanced outside, where the egg guardians were barely visible. “I think she could have some fun with the Easter Bunny’s Warren.”

“What?” Aster demanded. “I didn’t-”

“Hey, sweetie.” Tooth hopped down and crouched in front of Sophie. “Do you want to stay here and play in the paint river?”

Sophie stared at Tooth with wide eyes. “Really?”

“Of course! Bunny’s big eggs will look after you, right?” This last was directed at Aster, who felt a surge of annoyance at the question.

“Do you think I’d keep them around if they’d hurt the ankle-biter?” he demanded.

“Well, now that’s solved, let’s get moving,” Susan said briskly. “I want to hit something soon.”

“Um, question,” Tooth said. “Do we know where we’re going?”

“The place where dreams go to die,” Jack blurted. When the Guardians all turned, he flushed under the attention. “Pitch said it was where the sand was. Said it wouldn’t help, though, that they’d forgotten how to dream. I think...they must have been messing with his head or something.”

“No. Just suggestions he couldn’t remember. Conversations that didn’t make an impression. No one sees them without looking. No one remembers them without trying.” Miss Susan leaped onto the horse, Binky, and reached a hand down to Jack. “Now, any thoughts where this place may be, where dreams die?”

Jack shook his head, and the others took on puzzled looks. Aster, though, could remember stories from his childhood, tales of the Golden War and its aftermath. The monsters of the past had been imprisoned in an isolated prison, where...dreams went to die.

“I got an idea,” Aster said. “Sandy? You ever hear where they stuck the Dream Pirates the first time around?”

Sandy nodded. He had a fierce look on his face as he called forth a map of speckled stars showing a planet topped with a foreboding building. Miss Susan stared at it with careful focus before snapping her fingers at Aster.

“Come on. We’ve got a prison to storm.”

Aster snorted and hopped up behind Jack, wrapping his arms around the boy to keep on in case the horse was anything like North’s sleigh.

The horse tensed and leaped up, and the world streamed around them like stars.

Aster vowed never to complain about the sleigh, or even the snow globes, again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For proper attribution, Susan's discussion borrows heavily from her grandfather's explanation at the end of Hogfather (an excellent book you should all read). The Auditors are exactly what they sound like, and pretty nasty pieces of work.


	12. Guardians: Rise Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Guardians bring the fight to the Auditors.

The Prison of Nightmares was as it was, the first and only time Sandy had seen it. Sitting on the heart of a barren, dead world, the massive obsidian building almost dwarfed the planet it rested on. There was no imagination in its design, straight and angular in its every line.

The only thing that had changed was that the huge red sun the world circled was now a dark pinprick in the night, circled by a corona of light flaring into impossible colors before vanishing. Sandy shivered at the sight of the black hole.

Of course, there was another change. Hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of gray robed figures surrounded the planet and the prison. The horse paused mid-step, allowing the Guardians to survey the battlefield.

“Where’s the sand?” Jack screamed at the Auditors.

Millions of faces looked up at the horse. Do not persist in this foolishness. You perform a function, albeit one that will soon be unnecessary. There is no need to fight inevitability. There is no need to die today.

“Yeah, you can stop with your earbashing,” Aster drawled, stepping off the horse into the strange not-ground of the space around the prison. “You seem to think that fighting against the inevitable means we’ll lose. But we’re not stonkered yet, ya drongos. As long as there’s life, there’s hope.”

This is categorically untrue. One can live without hope.

Sandy floated up off of the horse and glared down at the Auditors. There was a fury in him, in these creatures that didn’t believe in dreams. But there wasn’t enough power, not enough sand, not as he was.

Sandy closed his eyes, focusing on the core of his being. Dreams were not a center. You could not build a life centered around dreams. Dreams were born in determination, the knowledge of what you wanted to accomplish. And it was because of this determination that Sandy. Had. Never. Given. Up.

Sand streamed away from Sandy, all of it, including the sand that made up his physical being. He had never done this, because he was uncertain if he could reconstruct himself afterward. Because what was within was the spark of light that made up Sandy’s being, the wishing star.

“Woah, Sandy, is that what you really look like?”

Sandy summoned a thumbs-up for Jack before turning to the Auditors, and striking.

Whips of sand, too many to count, arced across the mass of robes, slicing through them like a knife. This seemed to be a signal to the others, who leapt into the fray with their pokers. Jack skated forward on ice summoned under his feet, and Tooth actually split herself further, replaced by hundreds of tiny fairies, each armed with a pair of pokers.

North hurled a snow globe forward, and an army of yetis streamed from the wormhole. And Aster threw himself forward with a deafening warcry.

Sandy darted about, watching over his friends as best he could. It was hard, though, snapping through waves of Auditors with whips, slamming others with hammers, and summoning a small herd of griffons that swept through the hordes, clawing and screeching at the Auditors.

It was hard because the Auditors were numberless, infinite. For every one that died, another rose to take its place. But Aster would not give up hope. Jack wouldn’t slow down, and North would not fall to the dullness. Tooth would always remember what drove her to fight.

Miss Susan would never release the fury that drove her to fight them until the end of time.

And Sandy would never stop fighting for his dreams.

Cease this. You cannot win. We are infinite. We are necessary. A world without us has no rules. And the rules are what holds the world together.

“Yes, there are rules!” Aster howled. “But there needs to be freedom! Freedom to dream, to laugh, to love! Otherwise, what’s the point?”

The world must exist. It must continue according to the laws of nature. There is nothing beyond that.

Sandy called his sand back to him long enough to form a single symbol, one unmistakable in intent in its response to the Auditors.

We recognize this gesture. It is meant to be rude. It is meant to infuriate us. It will not move us.

Sandy shifted the sand shape.

This is an attempt to express obscenity in your language. Is it meant to upset us?

The sand exploded outward into a million shards of sharp sand, cutting through a dozen Auditors each. Sandy reconstituted the sand into an image of his humanoid face grinning at the Auditors.

You have succeeded in identifying yourself as a nuisance.

“Yeah? And what’ll that do? You’re going to kill us anyway!” Jack howled. “Why can’t we go out telling you to screw yourselves?”

Because that is impossible. We possess no sexual apparatus.

“Well, no wonder you’re so uptight,” Aster snorted. “You haven’t had a naughty in...how old are you?”

Billions of years. As old as the universe.

“I bet even Sandy’s had more fun than you,” Tooth retorted.

Stop it! Do you think this will accomplish anything of use?

Sandy wanted to smile. As long as the Auditors were talking, they weren’t killing the Guardians.

And then a scream echoed through the space. Like a fox’s cry, it was just human enough for the inhuman part of it to scratch across the mind. Another scream rent through the air, and Sandy could see a brief blue flame.

What is this? What are you doing?

“We are doing nothing! Sandy?” Sandy summoned a small bust of himself shrugging. But then he saw the flames stretching and curling through the Auditors, as if a tendril were actually reaching through them.

He knew the tactic. He knew the mind that would choose it as a weapon.

What is happening? What are you doing?

Sandy summoned a horse of sand, with bat wings and fire on its hooves. It galloped around him, neighing silently.

Stop it! Your shapes are meaningless.

“Nightmares,” North said in awe. “This is Pitch.”

“Congratulations, Nicholas. You’ve proven slightly more intelligent than these little monsters.” Pitch’s voice echoed oddly in this space, as did his chuckle. “Yes, it is me. You made a fatal error, you know. You thought you could trick me. You thought you could control me. And you thought you could do this without consequence.

“I am Pitch Black. I am the Bogeyman, the master of fear. I will not go quietly into the night. I will not be forgotten. I will not be used! You played with fire, and now you will find how hot it burns!”

A wave of emotion shot through Sandy, a burst of terror that made him lose complete control of his sand. He could see Tooth and North wince, Aster shudder, and Jack slowly straighten, glaring at the Auditors. Miss Susan didn’t move at all.

A wave of blue flames consumed more Auditors than Sandy could count, even as more began appearing to replace them. Dots of shadow appeared within the mass of Auditors, Fearlings that began swooping in on the Auditors, who, unused to any emotion, were easy prey. Pitch appeared in their midst, wielding something like Sandy’s whips, part, he realized, of the stolen sand, dyed black and shredding through Auditors. But the fear surrounded him like an aura, destroying any Auditor that drew near.

Sandy drew back instinctively, and saw the others doing the same. Each of them had faced their own trials, their own test of power and resolve. Pitch was their enemy, but his declaration spoke of some realization, some deep connection to his center. They must have all sensed that this was not their fight any longer. Pitch hated them, but he was as tied to the world of imagination as they were. He wanted the world for himself, not for the dull, faceless Auditors.

This is pointless. We are beyond infinity.

“So am I. There is always something to be afraid of, always something more to fear. And there’s something about fear. When fear strikes you, it becomes not general fear, but the fear that something will happen to you. And that’s the problem with you people, isn’t it? You need to be identical in every way. And the moment you prioritize yourself above your fellows, poof! Out like a candle! So I suppose the question is, how long can you fight before you start worrying about whether you can hold out longer than I can? Before I don’t need to do anything to make you fear for your brief, individual lives?”

There was a pause, a hesitation in the mass of Auditors, as they conferred amongst themselves, silently and eerily.

“This is a limited time offer,” Pitch crooned. “Leave, never try anything like this again, and I will not turn my attention back to you. This world is mine, and you will not have it.”

The moment stretched on, and then the answer came.

We will leave this world alone.

“Ha!” Pitch crowed.

It will not matter. You have not won. You cannot win.

The Auditors faded, slowly, into the background of the universe.

“That was amazing,” Jack said, awed.

Pitch turned, slowly, and when he saw Jack, sneered. “I just finished what you couldn’t,” he said. “As you couldn’t be bothered to keep them from erasing all of us from existence.” He glanced up at Sandy. “Make them dream again, wishing star. I’m looking forward to seeing their nightmares.”

Sandy pulled himself together as Pitch vanished in a whirl of shadows. He glanced down at the others as he finished; they were drifting to the entrance to the prison, perhaps ready to raid it for the stolen sand.

With that thought - Sandy, severely reduced as he was, followed.


	13. Disappointment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The enemy is defeated, but the Guardians still haven't won...

The prison was...larger than any word Jack could imagine. Massive, humongous, and gargantuan failed to adequately describe it. The obsidian (or probably some alien metal with weird properties) loomed over the planet, and over the Guardians.

As they approached, he could see words carved deep into the facade. “HERE IS IMPRISONED THE FE---INGS, T-- -REA- PI---ES, --G-TMA--, --M, A--...” The words became increasingly worn and illegible as they went on, but the list went on for a long while.

“What’s with the list of offenders?” Jack asked.

“The Prison of Dreams held more than the Fearlings and Dream Pirates. The people of the Golden Age chucked every monster, evil spirit and evil-doer they caught in here,” Bunny said. “The Fearlings were the last, but there were nasty things in that prison, some of them worse than Pitch.”

Jack glanced sidelong at Bunny, worry curling in his stomach. “Will any of them come to Earth?”

“They probably ran out to make trouble elsewhere, Jack. Whole worlds under the dominion of the demons of the Great Prison,” North murmured.

“Isn’t there anything we can do about it?” Jack asked.

“You have duties. Obligations that cannot be set aside, even for the sake of a whole world,” Miss Susan said stiffly.

Jack wanted to protest, but he knew it was pointless. Even without Pitch, the children of the world needed protection. Still, the realization made his stomach hurt, even though that was a problem for another day. They had to find the dream sand!

Inside, the prison was cavernous, musty, and dark. It smelled of rot and pain and panic. It made Jack want to vomit.

“So, we split up, look for sand?” North asked.

Jack grabbed Bunny’s arm and dragged him down one of three huge tunnels branching from the entryway. Wandering the paths seemed to take forever; every turn was followed by a dozen more, and Jack was certain the place rearranged itself when he wasn’t paying attention. Groans and roars echoed through the halls, drawing the two closer together in their passage.

Hours passed, and although Jack was certain they hadn’t explored a tenth of the prison, he suspected they weren’t going to have any luck.

“Bunny?”

“I know, Frostbite,” Bunny murmured. “It’s gone.” What with the empty prison, and a big honking black hole outside, it seemed like a foregone conclusion.

They kept walking, slowly, enveloped in a fog of melancholy. With the certainty the sand had been lost, hidden away, or destroyed, their mission seemed utterly hopeless. “Bunny, what do you think-”

“It’s not over, Jackie,” Bunny insisted. “Not ever. We’ve faced worse odds and won. You have, too.”

Jack snorted. Of course he had; he’d been dead. But somehow, his death seemed insignificant to the absence of dreams. Santoff Claussen still stood, but he could feel weakness in his limbs, as he had in the fading years before he’d died the second time. The children had lost faith, and it was weakening all of them.

He was silent on the way back to the entrance, keeping as close to Bunny as he could. Neither one felt like speaking, and when they arrived back in the entry to the prison, the mood seemed to be common to them.

“Maybe...we could see if the kids are okay anyway,” Jack suggested. It brought a moment of hopeful glances to Miss Susan, who gave a shrug.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” she replied, “so it’s worth a shot.”

With a quick stop at the Warren to pick up Sophie (who latched onto Bunny’s fur and clambered up to his shoulder to ride back like he was her personal steed), the Guardians, and Miss Susan, returned to Burgess. The streets were silent and still dark, as apparently, the time you spent with Miss Susan didn’t count as real time. Sophie fell silent from her chant of “bunnybunnybunnybunnybunnybunnybunnybunny” as they drew closer to her house.

“Are we going to fix Jamie?” she asked quietly.

“We’re working on it, Sophie,” Bunny murmured, reaching up to scratch at the top of her head.

Sneaking into houses was something they were all well-practiced at, but there was something tense about slipping into the Bennets’ house, knowing the boy might be as distant and vague as he’d become.

Sophie steered Bunny toward Jamie’s room when they entered the home; Jack followed, the others behind, with Miss Susan, armed with a poker, taking up the rear.

Jamie was asleep, curled up in his bed. He was still, and as Jack drew close, he could see the boy’s eyes were still.

No dreams.

“Wake up, Jamie,” Jack crooned. The boy didn’t twitch. Jack poked Jamie, which elicited no response.

“JAMIE!” Sophie launched herself from Bunny’s shoulders onto the bed, sending blankets flying and Jamie bolting upward.

“Sophie? What are you doing up?”

“Look! Bunny!” Sophie waved back at Bunny, grinning madly at her brother.

Jamie blinked at her, scowling at the part of the room crowded with Guardians. “Go to sleep, Sophie.”

“But-”

“I’ve got school tomorrow,” Jamie growled. “Go to bed.”

He rolled over and shoved Sophie off the bed. Sophie sat there for a moment, staring up at the bed, her eyes glimmering with tears. Bunny was on the ground with her, petting and whispering to her, while Jack stared at the sleeping Jamie. He formed a snowball in one hand, strongly considering just hitting Jamie in the back of the head-

Oh, hell, you only live once, twice if you’re lucky. The snowball splattered across the bed, and Jamie, but nothing changed. No gleeful shout or Jamie rising and grinning at Sophie and Jack...

“But why couldn’t he see you?” Tooth was asking Miss Susan.

“Because he didn’t expect to see a matronly librarian in his bedroom at...one in the morning,” Miss Susan replied. “It’s one of the signs of the small-minded: the ability to ignore the blindingly obvious. I think we need to sleep on this. Well, you do. I need to research.”

“Do you need an escort?” North asked.

Miss Susan offered him a withering glare and raised her poker. “I can handle myself. And I have a gentleman of my own.” North flushed, stammering, while Miss Susan casually walked out of the door, leaving the Guardians to find their own ways home.

Jack, feeling dejected, waved Bunny off. “I just gotta think for a while,” he said. “I’ll catch up later.”

Bunny, still looking worn and sweat-soaked, gave a sad smile and gave Jack a hug before opening a tunnel back home. Jack glowered at nothing and skated off toward his pond.


	14. Salvation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, the simplest idea is the best.

Toothiana sat in the center of her palace, focused entirely on guiding her sprites on their journeys around the world. She’d taken an oath, and had a duty, and not even the children losing their dreams would stop her. She’d live in the hope that some day, some child would look down and wonder where the coin under their pillows had come for, and believe again. It was all she could do, until the children remembered how to dream.

All action stopped. Every fairy, the world over, froze in place in response to Tooth’s shock.

It couldn’t be that easy.

It couldn’t.

Still...

“Girls! Get to work!” Tooth shouted, fluttering angrily to the stocks of teeth to grab several particular boxes, while the sprites around her fluttered to their other tasks.

The flight to Burgess was a blur, but to Tooth’s mind, ramped up by the surge of adrenaline, it passed in a moment. She wasn’t entirely certain how much time had passed since the moment the Guardians had all but given up, but Jack was perched on a shepherd’s crook on top of his pond, which was frozen solid. She wondered, idly, if he’d gone back to the prison to get it, or if he had a stash of them somewhere.

But there were more important things to worry about. It was mid-day, and Jack looked miserable. If he’d been out here all this time, Bunny must have looked just as bad - worse, if neither of them were sleeping.

But she was going to fix that.

Toothiana giggled to herself, which seemed to be enough to attract Jack’s attention. He glanced over sharply, but his expression deadened into a resigned one at the sight of her.

“Hey, Tooth.”

Tooth fluttered to Jack’s side, barely able to restrain her excitement. “Jack, I had an idea.”

Jack grunted.

“Jack!” Tooth flew to Jack’s front and grabbed his face so he couldn’t look away. “This is important. Jack, you said the children had forgotten how to dream.”

“Yeah, Pitch told me that. He wasn’t lying, Tooth. Jamie can’t see me, doesn’t want to.”

“No, Jack. You said they forgot.” Tooth held up the box containing Jamie’s baby teeth. “But in here is every memory Jamie cherishes. All he needs, Jack, is to touch it.”

Jack stared at the box with a desperate, hungry expression, and Tooth pushed it toward him. “Go on, Jack. I think you should do it.”

Jack took the box, and, offering Toothiana a hesitant grin, grabbed his crook and took to the air. It was all Tooth could do to keep up with him, soaring with the wind. Jack was laughing wildly, such that when he landed in the town square, it rang with the sound of it. Jack spun around once, twice, and then was off again. Tooth flew as fast as she could; she could see flashes of her smaller fairies, pursuing other children with other memories, but knew it was worth it to watch Jack’s personal victory.

Jack landed just outside the school just as the last bell rang. Tooth, holding onto a few other important boxes, fluttered her wings in excitement.

Jamie stepped outside, bag slung over his shoulder, and, walking forward, made as if to walk through Jack.

At which point Jack opened the box and shoved it in Jamie’s face.

_“This is your little sister, Sophie.” Jamie stared in wonder at the tiny person in his mother’s arms. The girl laughed and waved her hands at Jamie._

Tooth’s wings paused mid-flutter.

_“And that’s the Tooth Fairy, and Santa, and the Sandman, and Jack Frost-”_

_“Bunny!” Sophie pointed at the picture of the fluffy rabbit in the children’s book._

_“Yeah, that’s the Easter Bunny,” Jamie said. “There’s a really neat story about him-”_

_“Story about Bunny!”_

_“Okay, okay!”_

She could see Jack, face frozen in a hopeful smile, staring wide-eyed at Jamie.

_Jamie stared at the pale-haired youth, feeling a fluttering in his stomach at the sight of the older boy who looked like he was covered in ice._

_“You...you’re Jack Frost!”_

_“Got it in one, kid,” Jack said, grinning at Jamie. “Thought it was a little bare out here, could use a little snow.”_

_“You call this a little snow?” Jamie asked, laughing._

_“Compared to Russia, yeah,” Jack replied. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” He packed a snowball in one hand and tossed it up and down. Jamie, who had been fully prepared to track down Cupcake with the snowball he had, hurled his at Jack’s head. The sprite dropped the snowball with a yelp, and Jamie ran away, laughing._

The world returned to its normal speed. Tooth could see children blearily wiping their eyes, and even a few adults staring speculatively at the space where Jamie had just walked into Jack.

“What the - Jack!”

“Jamie!” Jack dragged the human boy forward to where Tooth had actually caught herself before she hit the ground. “You’re back!”

“Jack, what are you...oh, my gosh. I’ve been acting like a complete-”

“No time!” Jack howled. “Come on; your sister needs to see you!”

Jamie stumbled after Jack, half-laughing as Jack led all of them back to the Bennet home. They burst through the door, and Jamie, still giggling, shouted, “Sophie! Sophie, I’m here and I’ve got a surprise for you!”

“JAMIE!” The delighted scream and the sight of the blond girl throwing herself at Jamie was a reminder to Tooth of exactly why they kept all of this up.

For the children.


	15. Conclusions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And everything's wrapped up in a neat little bow.

Aster first felt it some two days after their (well, Pitch’s) victory over the Auditors. He’d been nominally thinking for a solution, but had mostly been sleeping and moping. Jack had gone off to think himself, leaving Aster to stumble back into the Warren on his own.

He wasn’t mad at Jack, just...lonely. Feeling the teensiest bit abandoned, even though he knew Jack preferred to think alone.

But then, some time after, he’d felt a flow of warmth into his bones, something unfamiliar in that it was ages since he’d noticed it. Belief. Hope. Flickers of joy. He perked his head up, and then, clambering to his feet, left his burrow to investigate.

He got two steps outside before Jack ran into him, sending Aster backward a step and Jack’s face into his chest.

“Snowflake-”

“Bunny we’re invited to a party at North’s we’re going to celebrate like it’s 1999! Tooth figured it out and I fixed Jamie and we’re letting some of the kids come so there won’t be any alcohol or making out under the mistletoe and I told North why would there be mistletoe it’s almost Easter-”

They froze at the exact same moment.

“Fuck!” Aster snapped out. He spun around, storming back inside. “Get in here, ya googies!”

It took a moment before he realized Jack was following him. “Do you want me to start sorting out paint buckets from the river, or organize the eggs?” Jack asked.

“I-” Aster stopped and stared at Jack. “You don’t need to stay, Frostbite. Go out, have fun.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Someone’s got to make sure you don’t work yourself to death, Bunny. Might as well be me, seeing as how I love you and all.” He grinned and stepped up to peck Bunny’s chin. “It’ll go faster with two, right.”

“Yeah,” Aster replied. “Yeah, go ahead and grab the paint. I’ll pull out the brushes.”

It was a flurry of activity before they could get down to work, and they didn’t really have time to talk for quite some time; Aster’d lost an unforgivable amount of time with Pitch and the Auditor’s screwing around, and they had a lot of work to do.

But they were doing it together.

After Easter, when Aster was sprawled in his nest, Jack resting on top of him, Aster stared, blearily, at the human he’d taken into his home. His last thought before sleep took him was what exactly Jack had meant, what he’d said before all this started.

Ah, no worries. It’d work out in time. He was sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's the end of 'Rise Up'. Thanks to everyone who read and commented about it! Fear not, I'm not done with this plot, although I might take some time to work on Jack Frost and the Tree of Life (a Harry Potter fusion).


End file.
